


Halfling

by captainkaramerica



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gentle Kylo Ren, Human Trafficking, LITERALLY, Light Bondage, Master/Pet, One-Sided Attraction, Ownership, Power Imbalance, Protective Kylo Ren, Really dark, Rey Needs A Hug, Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Social Issues, THIS FIC DOES NOT SUPPORT OR FETISHIZE HUMAN TRAFFICKING, a tiny ball of rage, check chapter notes for individual warnings, plot heavy, rey is much smaller here than in canon for reasons, which also means this will never get updated haha, which is a first for me haha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-09 09:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12885462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainkaramerica/pseuds/captainkaramerica
Summary: Her owner is a stupidly kind and benevolent man. Rey hates him more than anything in the world.Halfling:noun.Any human bearing visible similarities to animals without accompanying behavior.Halfling:adj. colloquial.Subhuman.Halfling:adj. Ben Solo.Beautiful, perfect.Halfling:adj. Rey Kenobi.Fucking bullshit.





	Halfling

**Author's Note:**

> Very dark subject matter, but this is going to be mostly a fluff-filled fic.
> 
> This is not a commentary on any sort of social issue right now, but it does contain a critique of the state of human trafficking today and how we see others who are different. The overall purpose of this fanfiction is not political, but if these themes bother you, I won't hold it against you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BRIEF violation of consent. I'm not adding the rape/non-con tag because this is a one-time occurrence, but be warned.

**_September 6, 20--_ **

"What have you brought me?"

Rey jerks in her bonds and she knows it's useless to struggle at this point—she's not getting out of this one—but it's better than taking it like a punk, not when she's slung over the shoulder of one of her captors.  _Always fight to live freely, my baby girl,_ Rey's mother had said to her once very long ago, until she was captured and sold too.  _Like mother, like daughter,_ Rey thinks bitterly, her treasonous tail flicking through the air and her ears flattened against the top of her head as she tries to wriggle away. The man holding her slaps the top of her thighs in warning and Rey yelps in pain.

"Halfling bitch," the lead hunter replies, and Rey feels disgusting in her old clothing, tattered from years of living off the grid, surrounded by such lavish decor at the Processing Center. She used to hear such awful stories about these places, that they would experiment on Halflings and torture them, and she believed in those tales when she was younger but she found out the truth soon enough. Every rich asshole wants a Halfling for their own, a pretty little thing to throw around and fuck and break because they're supposedly less than human, and the splendor and opulence of the Centers reflect the clientele.

The hunters negotiate their reward for an unsullied Halfling, a sum of money that has Rey's jaw dropping, with the man sitting behind the desk of the Processing Center. Her eyes roll as they talk about her like she's too stupid to understand, about fitting her with chips and contraceptives and auction dates. She wants to yell that she's  _right here_ but the last time she spoke out of turn the hunter carrying her had slapped her. The memory chastises her just enough to make her bite her tongue.

"We'll take her from here," says the man behind the counter with finality as the lead hunter scribbles his signature on a paper, accepting his reward. The hunter holding her drops her small form to the ground and Rey utters a quiet  _oof_ as the wind is knocked out of her lungs, and she watches them exit. Her wrists and ankles are bound, so she flails helplessly as she is approached by processors who heft her up by her armpits and drag her away screaming. 

Rey is pushed through a door and here the decor is much less lavish than that of the lobby, hallways lit by fluorescent lights whose rays bounce off of the clinical white-tiled walls. One of the processors opens up a door and she's shoved roughly inside, just as clinical and cold in here as in the hallway. An exam table, cabinet, and sink are its only furnishings, and Rey is pushed onto the table still bound. The processors leave and lock the door behind them. 

Now alone, Rey can afford herself some tears, but feels it would be weak to give into her despair. Her terrible, awful tail, the thing that separates her from being an acceptable member of society, curls around her waist nervously and providing the hug she cannot give herself. She shivers, cold and alone and frightened but determined not to look as scared as she feels. Rey has heard the things that Halflings have to go through before they can be auctioned off and they terrify her. Before she can ruminate on her thoughts further the door to the exam room opens and Rey's head snaps up, meeting the icy blue gaze of a woman followed by several chattering students who fall silent at the sight of the Halfling perched on the exam bed.

"I'm sure you won't mind this class watching a Halfling examination," the woman says to Rey, voice slow as though she's speaking to someone very young and stupid. Rey resists the urge to hiss at her and looks down at her bound ankles, dangling off of the edge of the bed. The woman walks over to her, shoes squeaking against the white-tiled floor, and the students shuffle in curiously. Halflings are rare these days, most having already been captured and sold, so watching Rey get poked and prodded and injected must be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for them. Rey looks at the top of their heads jealously: the only thing separating her from the students is a tail and a pair of soft tufted ears perched atop her head. The woman's hand pushing Rey down onto her back is enough to startle her out of her reverie.

She runs her hand under her shirt, and Rey squirms at the warm touch, trying to bat her away with her bound wrists. The students look down at her, and she thinks she sees pity on one or two of the faces crowding her in but the amount of clinical curiosity far outweighs the compassion. The woman asks them to take a step back and walks over to the cabinet. Rey watches with apprehensive eyes as the woman, her examiner, returns with a pair of scissors and cuts right through her old, dirty shirt.

Rey yelps, cheeks burning at the indignity of it all, and squeezes her eyes shut as her pants meet the same fate as her poor shirt.

"This Halfling is young but malnourished, and with the appropriate medications can be brought up to a healthy and presentable weight. A female Halfling with feline characteristics is smaller than the average human and generally softer, but this one," the examiner says as she places a hand atop Rey's protruding hipbone, "is far thinner than what is normal. Why could this be?"

Hands shoot up and Rey drapes her arms over her eyes as best as she can, preferring the mild discomfort of her joints straining over staring into the eyes of the crowd gathered.

"Mr. Grandle," the examiner calls, and Rey hears the flop of raised arms falling back down to the sides of their owners. 

"The Halfling is malnourished and thin because she was running from the fate all Halflings should submit to," a student chirps, voice far too enthusiastic. "Her illegal activity did not allow her a steady or assured amount of food, leading to a deterioration of her physical form."

"Excellent, Mr. Grandle. Behavioral and health complications are likely; the fact that this Halfling evaded capture indicates an unacceptable defiant streak, but tamping down her spirit is not part of my job." The examiner chuckles politely and the students join in. Rey groans softly.

The woman continues guiding the students through the examination smoothly. "Now that the Halfling's clothes have been removed, we can measure her vital signs." The slap of thin latex gloves being pulled onto the woman's hands makes Rey jump, but the examiner only flips her onto her stomach, the shreds of her clothing being tossed into a biohazardous waste bin along with her dignity. The paper atop the exam table crinkles as she adjusts, trying to find a comfortable position for her wrists to lie in.

The examiner presses her gloved hand against Rey's back, applying pressure as something cold, metal, and round joins it. "Breathe in," the examiner says, and Rey is half tempted to refuse to breathe at all, hold it in until she turns blue in the face and passes out as a sign of protest. Instead Rey inhales slowly and exhales at the examiner's command.

"Heart rate is slow, but breathing patterns are normal. The main cause of her slowed heartbeat is likely malnutrition. Lack of appropriate nourishment deteriorates the muscles in the body, and the heart, as a muscle, is no exception. Supplements to increase body mass will have to be administered carefully to avoid putting too much stress on the heart."

Rey smiles to herself. The longer it takes for her to reach a "healthy and presentable weight," the longer it will take for her to be sent to auction and wind up in some rich horny bastard's bed.

"This is advantageous, however. Instead of nutritional supplements being given to her over a period of months, we can give her injections that will prevent stress on the heart and bring her up to a desirable weight in a week's time."

Rey's heart stops and the smile she had afforded herself falls from her face so quickly that it's almost laughable.

The door to the exam room slides open and Rey dares to look up. A processor wheels in a cart with a metal tray on it, syringes of all shapes and sizes on it along with needles to be attached to them. The examiner thanks him and the students move out of the way so as not to hinder her access to the tools, and the door to the room closes as the processor exits.

The woman picks up a syringe and peers into it before lowering it to unwrap a comically large needle. She screws it onto the syringe and Rey meets her gaze, neck tilted towards her at an awkward angle. She looks up at the examiner with fearful eyes, pleading with her. The examiner doesn't even blink as her hand forces Rey's head down, her face against the paper of the exam table. She's trembling until something indescribably sharp breaks the skin at the nape of her neck. 

The pain is so immense that Rey can hardly breathe, but the examiner prattles on. "The liquid inside of the syringe houses a microscopic nanobot; the liquid allows for easier transfer of the machine. It is imperative that the injection be made at the upper trapezius. Can anyone tell me why? Ms. Frank?"

"Injecting the nanobot into the upper trapezius allows for easy access to the brainstem."

"Correct. Once injected into the trapezius, the nanobot will make its way through the body until it reaches the brainstem, grafting itself onto it permanently. This prevents any removal as an attempt to remove the nanobot would result in death. The nanobot acts as a tracker and mild neural disruptor. The owner of the Halfling can follow the movements of their property and prevent them from performing certain actions." Rey is in such pain that she cannot make a sound, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it feels like she may never open them again. Finally,  _finally_ the needle is removed, and the long, burning stretch as it is pulled out makes her bite her lip in pain so hard that she draws blood.

Rey looks back at the examiner, ears and tail tufted, spine curved and rigid. She wants to cry and yell at the same time, wants to hurt them all, especially the impassive students who stare down at her with such clinical curiosity and indifference.

"That  _hurt_!" Rey yells, but the students look at her as though she's speaking a foreign language. Desperate to get her point across, Rey continues. "The only thing separating me from any of you is this," Rey bites out as she grabs her tail for emphasis, "and my ears. That's all!"

"As I mentioned earlier, the Halfling's evasion of the law indicated possible behavioral issues, which have just manifested. She thinks that she is worthy of equal treatment. This line of thought is common among Halflings."

"I can understand you," Rey says testily, face flushing.

The examiner ignores her and flips Rey onto her back, moving to the opposite end of the exam table. The ropes binding her ankles together come loose and Rey stretches her legs out, but if her legs must be free now she dreads the next step of the examination. 

"Now we must examine the tightness of the Halfling. A virginal Halfling is worth three times as much as a sullied one." The woman pushes apart Rey's legs and hooks her thumbs around the top of Rey's underwear, pulling them off.

"I haven't had sex with anyone, I swear," Rey says, panicking, heart leaping into her throat. Please,  _please_ let them listen, let the cold and indifferent examiner and students have mercy.

The universe decided today was "fuck Rey over" day, because the examiner pulls her legs apart and reaches for a piece of metal with a hooked end. The woman leans in between Rey's legs, hooking the curved end of the metal rod around the lip of her wetness. The examiner holds it open as Rey shakes with fear and anger, humiliated and exposed.

Then, without any warning, a fingertip presses against her entrance. Rey shrieks, trembling, resisting the urge to clamp her legs shut around the woman's head and suffocate her, the students looking on in horror. Maybe then she'll be able to get them to express some sort of emotion. But Rey merely grips the paper covering the exam table in her fists, tearing it, biting her bloody lip as she holds back her tears. 

"Virginal," the examiner says finally, pulling away and removing the cold metal. She does not give Rey her underwear back.

"It is imperative, now, that the Halfling be outfitted with a contraceptive." The examiner moves towards the tray, returning with another syringe. She removes the needle from the package, screws it onto the end of the syringe, and taps it so it settles. Cold dread settles in her stomach as the woman grabs Rey's bicep and eases the needle in.

This hurts far less than the other needle, but the long stretch as it embeds itself into her muscle is still painful. "Another nanobot is housed inside the liquid of this syringe. This implant has a far less complicated task: prevent pregnancy in the Halfling. It is a simple and effective contraceptive and is, in fact, frequently given to ordinary women."

As she prattles on, Rey zones out, closing her eyes and trying to ignore how cold she is. She's being treated like a product, and  _why_? Because she had the misfortune to be born with a goddamn tail? It's not fair, none of this is fair, and suddenly Rey bursts into tears.

She promised herself she wouldn't cry but the sobs tear through her trembling frame. The examiner doesn't skip a beat. Rey isn't surprised.

* * *

**_September 13, 20--_ **

"Big day for you today," chirps some nameless processor, friendly enough to talk to her like she's able to understand her but not willing to help her escape. She holds a stack of clothing in her arms, much finer than the ones Rey is currently wearing, and her heart sinks. Rey is forced to face the reality of her predicament as the processor approaches, laying the pile at the foot of the cot Rey is curled up on. She gestures for Rey to sit up and she obeys, knowing by now not to fight her no matter how hard she wants to. The sensation of electricity burning along every nerve end in her body had been all Rey needed to remember to never try to escape again. "I heard there's a lot of people waiting to bid on you."

Rey is silent as the processor hefts her to her feet, drags her over to the shower in her cell, and removes the flimsy standard-issue clothing she was forced into after her humiliating examination. When she closes her eyes, Rey can feel the examiner's cold gloved fingers pulling her open, see the students' cool and detached expressions as she tries not to cry and, in the end, fails miserably. Rey doesn't fight her when she washes her, only jumping just a little bit when the woman's hand scrubs her slit with a damp washcloth.

"If I had the money, I would buy you. Just to keep you safe." Rey looks up into the woman's eyes, and her smile is close-lipped and genuine. It's bad enough that the processor treats her like she's capable of higher thinking--but what she just said was treason.

The processor looks away, rinses Rey off, and pulls her out of the shower. Rey dresses herself in the clothing that was brought in for her. It's nothing even remotely sexy, just a white shirt and matching pants, no shoes. Shoes are only for  _normal_ people, people who were lucky enough to be born  _pure_.

Rey looks up at the processor curiously. "Is this the right clothing?"

"They're playing the innocent angle. You'll bring in more money like this. People love to defile things." The processor's voice is quiet, almost apologetic. Rey wonders if she has a deathwish.

The processor moves behind her, cuffs her wrists behind her back. Rey has grown used to being restrained over the past week or so, but it still injures her pride, her fierce independent streak. The examiner was right--she'll never submit, at least in spirit.

For the first time in a week (not counting her ill-fated escape attempt), Rey exits her cell. Four men greet her, all bearing guns, all staring down at her with open disgust. The processor, the only person Rey could  _maybe_ call an ally, looks at her sadly. Rey knows that the other woman will die for showing even an ounce of compassion, for tricking a Halfling into thinking that she has value beyond her body, but it's hard to think about anything but the guns and the cuffs and the overwhelming fear and anger and hatred that floods her small body as she's led forward. 

As much as Rey wants to fight, she doesn't want to die. So she keeps her head down, swallows her tears, flattens her ears atop her head. It  _burns_ to submit like this, goes against every single one of her principles, but Rey knows how to survive and goddammit, if pretending to be the stupid little Halfling bitch everyone thinks she is will keep her alive, so be it.

* * *

She's busy sobbing her eyes clear out of her skull when the scrape of the door being lifted open has her stop.

Rey didn't know what she expected. Maybe that the stupid auction would take place at the Processing Center? But of course it didn't, because the universe fucking  _hates_ Rey, so she was shoved into a cage and loaded onto a truck and left in the dark. Treated like an animal. No, less than an animal--animals have rights. Treated like a fucking  _Halfling_ , treated like the expensive, sexy garbage society thinks she is.

Someone walks into the truck and drags the cage forward before unlocking it and yanking her out. "Got a nice big crowd for you, cutie." The man talking to her picks her up by the scruff of her neck, grabs her chin, and squeezes her jaw. He throws her to the ground when she doesn't express her pain, when she doesn't give him the pleasure of seeing her break. She has already shed her tears.

She's picked up, planted back on her feet. Led through some big fancy fucking marketplace, drumming up excitement for her sale. Her inner monologue is a steady mantra of  _fuck you, fuck you, fuck you_ , aimed at every passerby, every old woman pushing her cart along, every leering teenager stubbing their cigarette out before they get caught, every mom leading grubby-faced children and warning them to look away.  _Fuck you, fuck you_ \--

Someone catches her eye. Tall. Broad. Pale. Out of place. He whips around, stares right into her eyes. Long dark hair, darker eyes. Eyes that shine with compassion. He's handsome. He smiles gently, and he's even more handsome then. Rey hates him more than anyone she's met in her shitty life.

_Fuck you especially. Fuck you._

She looks straight forward, chin high. Her tail swishes through the air.

* * *

The crowd is massive.  _Horrifyingly_ so.

What irony, Rey thinks to herself as the auctioneer lists off her value, her history. She's worth so much to these people, but she's not human. She's not equal. She has no rights. But still, thousands are willing to drop  _millions_ for a scrawny little Halfling that's still malnourished but doesn't look as such anymore. Those stupid injections had hurt.

"We'll start the bidding at a hundred thousand. Paltry for such a prize Halfling. Do we have another number?" And so the auction begins. Rey closes her eyes. She refuses to watch as her life is being fought over in the worst way imaginable.

"Two hundred."

"Two-fifty."

Her head hurts. It's the blood rushing through her ears that distracts her from the throbbing in her temples.

"Four."

"Six."

"Six-fifty."

She thinks of her mother. The way she would hold her and sing her to sleep, how her arms felt. What it was like when they took her mother away, when mama hid her in the bushes and told her not to move and Rey got bit by so many bugs and she wanted to itch so  _bad_ but she can't, not until mama comes back, when is mama coming back, it's morning,  _mama_ \--

"Eight."

"Eight-twenty."

"One million."

Rey thinks of how scared she was when she was caught. Shaking, dirty. All she wanted was some food, she did such a good job of hiding her tail, her ears, but they found her, they grabbed her, and she was still hungry, so hungry, she's  _still_ so hungry--

"Two."

"Three."

She thinks of those stupid students, that evil blonde examiner. She thinks of that poor processor who talked to her like Rey could understand her, and it was so nice, and now she's probably dead--

"Five."

She thinks of that tall man that looked at her, who smiled at her. Like he couldn't see her shameful tail and her fucking ears, couldn't he see? She's just a dumb little Halfling, can't he _see_ \--

"Do we have another offer?"

"Ten."

The crowd stops its murmuring. Rey finally opens her eyes, and it seems like every head in the room looks towards the same person, the person who had offered  _ten million_ for her.

The auctioneer doesn't miss a beat. "Another offer?"

No one speaks.

"Sold." There it is, her life is worth ten million dollars. Rey wants to laugh. She's worthless, but somehow worth millions. How fucked.

The crowd disperses and after a few minutes, it's just Rey, the auctioneer, the guards, and a tall, dark, pale man who smiles up at her like he did when she was busy cursing him out in her head.

He mounts the stage.

"Name?" The auctioneer asks. The man who now  _owns_ her, can do whatever he wants with her, can use and abuse and throw her around all he wants, continues smiling.

"Ben Solo." He doesn't take his eyes off of her, doesn't look up. He leans down, reaches towards Rey with his arms out.

Rey's stomach churns. The cocktail of anger, surprise, hatred, fear, and rage is apparently not conducive to proper digestion, because Rey vomits right onto this  _Ben Solo's_ scuffed sneakers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the examination, the examiner is using a retractor to separate the lips of Rey's labia. Rey would have no idea what the proper name for this tool is, so I didn't include it, as this chapter is generally a Rey stream-of-consciousness. The _upper trapezius_ is a fancy medical way of saying "the nape of the neck." The crowd of students watching an examination was inspired by its occurrence in mental institutions, especially during a psychological evaluation.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @thickpeen or on tumblr @jigglypuffnipples!


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